i'm gonna ride this plane out of your life again
by StardustToRememberYouBy
Summary: "You stop listening there. Your heart also stops. He likes MJ. Not you, MJ. All you wanted was for him to notice you, a guy you'd liked since you were kids. It comes as a surprise for the most part, but also not really. Because it's you. Nobody likes you. Not even you like you." ALTERNATE PLANE SCENE [FFH], & on. Rating for language. Pete/OC-spin on familiar character. CHAP 2 UP!
1. the plane

Your mind is already wandering as you set foot off of the terminal and into the plane. You know this will be a long trip, but with your Switch, your phone, and your new sudoku puzzle book, you know are beyond set. You shimmy your way past a nice elderly couple. The woman is staring at your sweater, but she just smiles and remains silent.

"My cousin knitted it for me," you say aloud, and the woman's smile quickly fades.

_Shit. She didn't say anything to you. For all you know, that was a pity smile._

You continue on your way with a new blush you weren't prepared for. Mr. Dell placed you near a stranger, but with all of your equipment, you're fine with that.

Reaching above your head, you place your laptop bag in the overhead compartment just as Ned pushes past you, pushing you enough to bash your thigh into the armrest.

_Dammit!_ You bite the inside of your cheek and sit down, nestling comfortably into your seat until Harrington sits down in the other empty seat. _Great. Just great_.

"Howdy, Dubya," Harrington states in the most awkward way this awkward man can muster. You nod in his direction, acknowledging his statement without actually saying anything to him. You don't really mind Harrington, but you would definitely prefer sitting next to anyone but him. Literally. _Anyone_.

You're not sure how far into the flight you began ignoring Harrington, so you definitely didn't notice when someone else sat down in Harrington's seat. Someone cute. Someone named Peter Parker.

"Hi," he mouths, but you can't hear him over your music, so you pull your earbuds out as your blue eyes meet his browns. He had been smiling, but upon seeing what you can only assume was a blank expression, he quickly sobers into a serious tone. "Uh, sorry. I, uh, didn't mean to interrupt."

_Oh, my God. Oh, my God. OHMYGOD._

Your eyelids flutter more than you want them to as you shake your head, readjusting your posture in your seat to sit up straighter and meet him at eye-level. "You're fine," you confess, your voice much stronger than you had anticipated that it would be.

_I mean, come ON. For the love of Saint Joseph, this is PETER FUCKING PARKER_. _Why is he sitting here? Why me? Why now?_

"Harrington told me to take this seat..." he says, and his voice trails off, indicating that there was so much more to that story and you hadn't paid attention to any of it.

Of course, not one bit of that matters. Peter-fucking-Parker is sitting next to you and looking like he always does: awkward, cute, and adorable.

"Really, it's not a problem," you reassure him, giving him a small smile which he reciprocates in return, finally relaxing into his new seat. "So what brings you here?"

You instantly regret that.

_What the fuck? 'What brings you here?' You sound so pathetic. Jesus Christ. Desperate. Who are you? What would Dad say?_

That's not a road you want to go down. _Don't bring Dad into this, you dumb fuck_. Ah, _there's_ Dad, in that very phrase.

Peter grins at your question and you lose your nerve, feeling your muscles quake at the sight of that heavenly expression. "It's a long story," he says, leaving you wanting more.

"...not like we don't have time," you say. _Nice one! Much smoother_.

Peter glances down at your ear buds and then back up at you. "You can go back to your music - "

"No, really," you interject, rolling your ear buds around your phone and putting it aside, "What's up?"

"You know MJ?" he blurts out before you're ready, and your heart sinks.

"Yeah," you admit, folding your hands into your lap before he can see you trembling.

"Well, here's the thing...I really like her, and..."

You stop listening there. Your heart also stops. He likes MJ. Not you, MJ. All you wanted was for him to notice you, a guy you'd liked since you were kids. It comes as a surprise for the most part, but also not really. Because it's you. Nobody likes you. Not even _you_ like you.

He goes on for a bit about a gambit wherein he tried to get a seat next to MJ so that Brad Davis wouldn't sit with her, but it failed so now he's stuck sitting next to you. You. The girl who doesn't even like herself.

Why was he spilling all of this to you? You may have given him permission to talk about why he was sitting with you, but you definitely didn't sign up for hearing about your crush's feelings for another girl, a girl you could never compete with, ever, and certainly not now. Not with Peter-fucking-Parker liking her and not you.

You remember a time he'd had a crush on a girl working for the ice cream truck in your neighborhood. You can recall the firecracker popsicle he was eating while you munched on your waffle cone, and you were jealous of the way he looked at that girl all that time ago.

You couldn't believe this was happening again. You should've expected it, but you didn't, and that was your own damn fault and now you can't stop hearing your dad's voice echoing in your head. _Dumb fuck. The hell are you thinking?_

Peter continues talking to you, and you merely nod and acknowledge him talking, suddenly realizing that you're being a complete bitch to him. Here is your crush and he's talking to you more than he ever has. Sure, it's about another girl, but you shouldn't fucking care!

"Peter," you say in the brief moment of silence, "why don't you just tell her you like her and get it over with?"

Peter's eyes are widened and you feel a pang of guilt for being so forward with him. "...what?" he says with a slight crack in his voice.

"If you like MJ, just tell her and get it over with. Why haven't you done that yet?"

"She could _hear_ me," he says in a flustered way, and your heart hurts for him. "I can't. I can't do that - she may not even like me like that."

"Then why care what Brad thinks? It's _Brad_, for God's sake."

Peter fidgets with the tray in front of him. "Every girl wants Brad Davis."

_Not every girl wants Brad._

"Not _every_ girl wants Brad," you say in perfect succinction with your subconscious and you've never regretted anything more in your life, and _that's_ saying something.

Peter gives you puppy dog eyes and leans in a bit more, pleading with you to continue. "W-w-what..._really_?"

You catch your bearings and make eye contact with him. "Yes, really."

"Any ideas about who doesn't? Like, examples."

_Me, for starters. Don't say that shit out loud - you're still talking to him. Keep it up!_

"Like..." you pause, catching a gleam in his eyes, a hope for the answer you so desperately don't want to give. "...like...well, like MJ." He perks up a bit so you continue. "I'm sure you know that girls like MJ don't go for guys like Brad. He looks like he has it all, but he doesn't. He's not every girl's type, you know."

Peter's attitude softens and he relaxes for the first time the whole trip. "Listen, I'm sorry for all of this," he apologizes and you instantly forgive him for any past, current, and future transgressions. "I just...I just really needed someone on the outside to talk to about all of this stupid shit."

Someone on the outside.

Outside.

Someone.

That's what you are to him.

Someone on the outside.

An outside someone.

Someone.

Outside.

You struggle to maintain your cool - the only cool you possess. "It's not stupid shit," you reassure him, patting him on the thigh before you realize what you've done. He doesn't react. At all. In fact, it's like it never happened on his side.

"Thanks for this," he says, putting up a fist for you to give him the rock. So you do, and you know you'll be self-loathing for at least the next three days over further pushing yourself into Peter-fucking-Parker's forever-friendzone.

By this point, the plane has landed and passengers are beginning to disembark. Peter exits the row first, reaching up above you to hand you your backpack.

"This is pretty," Peter compliments after handing you your backpack.

"You, too," you blurt, and instantly want to jump out of the window and faceplant on the tarmac. Peter chuckles to himself as if brushing off what you'd said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and giving you one final, incredibly adorable grin.

"It's been a long time since we've talked," he says and all you do is shrug. "It's been great. Thanks for listening. It really helped."

_I'm not sure how, but you're welcome._

"Hopefully, we'll catch up more," Peter says and your heart swells.

"I'd like that," you say, finally flashing him a smile which he quickly and brightly returns. You are now in the process of dying, but you couldn't be happier about it.

"Parker," Harrington calls out from near the cockpit, "Watson, hop to it!"

Peter looks back at you and you smile at him. "Thanks for listening, Jane."

"You're welcome, Pete."

_Way to go, Jane Watson. You've just secured your spot in the friendzone forever. Keep it up._


	2. venice, part I

Venice is far more beautiful than you were anticipating, even though you had wanted to visit there for as long as you could remember. Of course, your brain only had so much space in it, and its occupancy was currently maxed out with the thoughts of one Peter Parker and his current venture to get MJ's attention. MJ. Not you.

You shake your head as a passing tourist asks if they can photograph you, kindly declining their wish. You just weren't really up for a stranger having a photo of you to take home to their loved ones.

"You should've done it," Peter says, nudging you in the side as he approaches you on the walk through St Mark's Square.

"Let them have a photo of some random girl?" You clarify for him.

He laughs a bit and you're in love all over again. "Maybe, but maybe they just saw that you're photogenic and wanted to capture that magic," he compliments.

"So now I'm magical _and_ photogenic?" you say with a smirk, tucking a loose section hair behind your ear. "High praise coming from you."

His brow furrows at your words and you're suddenly dead inside. "Well, maybe say yes when you're feeling up to it. We both know you can't take a bad picture."

"What about my third grade photograph with my silver-capped Jack Sparrow teeth?" you suggest, and he chuckles.

"Hey," he stated, pointing a finger at you with a serious expression, "that's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow to us mere mortals."

The two of you share a laugh.

_I love you so much._

"Maybe I _will_ say yes - " you say just before your phone buzzes in your cardigan pocket with a new text message.

"Lemme guess...it's your dad?"

"No," you snicker, "he couldn't give less of a shit where I am or what I'm doing." You pull out your phone and tap the screen to see it's from a certain Harry Osborn. "Oh, shit."

"Is he still trying to get with you?" Peter asks, a red tint suddenly covering his perfect cheekbones.

You nod, opening the text.

_Hey, u. Long time, no hear. Where r u at right now?_

"What does _he_ want?" Peter asks, and your heart imagines that the tone you just sensed in his voice was jealousy.

"Just the same as always," you say, readjusting your backpack straps as the two of you enter the Rialto Market. "You know, this market has held people selling their wares since 1097."

Peter seems distant at the moment, so you snap your fingers in front of his face. "Earth to Peter?"

"Please...please don't snap," he requests, his voice small and pleading. You retract your hand and suddenly resist the urge to jump into one of the canals and be lost in Venice waters forever.

"I'm sorry," you apologize. "I forgot..."

"No, no," he says, coming back to his old self. "_I'm_ sorry. I didn't mean to sound like such an asshole."

"You could _never_ be an asshole, Pete," you gently remind him, placing your hand on his arm and giving it a light squeeze before you realize where your hand is. It lingers for a moment and when you pull it back, Peter places his own hand onto the place where yours just was.

_Wait, wait, wait. Hold up...is he savoring the moment? Does he wish my hand hadn't left? Maybe I could...maybe I..._

"Hey, Pete!" Ned shouts from nearby where he is shopping with MJ. "Come and check this out!"

Peter and you make eye contact and then he skips off to join them as if you both hadn't been in the middle of a moment.

_You know what, MJ? Fuck you. Fuck off of him. _

You knew how heartless your thoughts were being, but you didn't care. You were hurt, so you did the only thing you knew to do: you texted Harry back.

_Hey :) We're in Venice in the Rialto Market right now. It's so gorgeous here! I wish I could stay forever_.

The moment you press send, you witness MJ watching Peter with the goofiest expression on her face, like she was stalking him. Then again, you couldn't count yourself as better than her, but you just didn't worship her like the other guys in your school did. Like you _thought_ Peter did.

Your phone dings and you read Harry's new message.

_Oooo I luv it there! I hope ur having fun there, even if it's w/o me :(_

You can't help but roll your eyes at his dramatics, but at least he's paying attention to you. At least he cares, and the worst part of it all was that Harry cared more about how you were doing and what you were getting up to on your trip than the people on the trip with you. Than Peter, even.

_Stop that shit right now. Stop fucking comparing Harry Osborn with PETER FUCKING PARKER._

You couldn't help that you were though - that was the loneliness talking.

And you _were_ lonely.

So you give in to the voices and text Harry back.

_Wish you could see these sights :)_

You frown to yourself, knowing how dishonest you were being with yourself, but you couldnt help it.


End file.
